Paper Folded Hearts
by tidalutopia
Summary: Elsie fears, Charles loves, and they share it by ink on simple pieces of paper. (Season 3 related, pre-Christmas Special.)
1. I - Elsie's Apotheosis

**Hello everyone! I know it has been a while since I wrote anything but university has been taking me a lot of time – you know the drill, classes and whatnot. And as I've been listening quite a lot to The Civil War's album "Barton Hollow" and Of Monsters And Men's "My Head Is An Animal" (if you haven't listened to them yet, you should check them out on youtube and if you feel like it buy the works, as they're the stuff of awesome and feely), I got this idea for this Chelsie fanfic (which I shared on tumblr, if you're paying attention to those major tags). It was almost made canon, guys. Or made canon already. WE'VE DONE IT FANDOM, NOW SHUT THE FRENCH WINDOWS – okay I'll shut up now. Here it is, and you know what follows: reviews are very appreciated, any thoughts, if I should continue, how much I have ruined your lifes (and that is me sounding very cocky), etc etc. So say we all!**

-/-  
_Your hands can heal, your hands can bruise._

The days were stupidly brighter to Elsie since she finally found out that she wasn't going to die anytime soon of a horrible condition – she was put out of misery quite after the misery itself hit her hard, but she could see the veil of happiness around her shattering as more and more people found out that she could be severely sick and the worries about her wellbeing weren't as good as she once thought. She didn't like it one bit, she hated it most than the idea of being sick, she would never want to be a burden.

But as the sickness came and left, she found herself being slapped in the face because of the things she didn't do in her life. Have loved someone thoroughly, having worked less hard and enjoyed herself a lot more, and the list would go on. She could see in Charles' face that her smile would bring him comfort, and his hands on her would bring her the healing she wanted – warmth, closure, love.

She wasn't sure she loved him in the full sense of the word. Respect she felt, and no one could destroy that. And she knew him better than anyone in that house – and she always enjoyed those little moments of introspection where they'd seat across each other and talk about life and happenings, where the house doings weren't as important. She was very hesitant to the thought of loving him – she had always been, since the day they met. Any woman could be attracted, any woman at all, so any attraction she felt to those manly words and those deep eyes wouldn't be just her. But despite everything, it was like they grew to adults together, they were together for many years even if by only professional means. They lived under the same roof, they drank the same wine, they often shared the same books and places. But loving him was far from any normal thing to feel – it was quite scary at the end of the day.

Years ago, if she had been any reckless, thing she hardly knows what it consists of , she could have forced herself to show more feelings to him and perhaps even go one step further – kiss him, or showing that she wanted to taste the poison in his tongue. It could cost her life in the house, her job she earned with so many nights of hard work. But now, looking at the case of Anna and Mr. Bates, she felt like she could have done that and much more. If they could share love without being judged, why couldn't she? Was she any less than Anna? She was older, she knew life better. But as the day passed, as the feeling of being safer from death was relieving her back and her heart, she found out that in the end she hardly knew anything about life itself.

She was scared of this strange feeling she couldn't describe, she couldn't shrug off and sleep it over – it wasn't simple. She had read about love before. Hell, she had seen it with her eyes. But feeling it? She never thought her heart would be ready for that. And realizing it so late was what she was scared the most.

But the day wasn't over yet, as she was finishing some work in her pantry, downstairs of the house she swore to work to. As she bit her lip, thinking about all the possibilities, she got a piece of paper, and started to write. She was going to do something reckless, or try to. She had to take it out of her head, or rather, her heart. She was a woman, after all, and she wasn't that weak. She could do this.

One word came after another. She didn't think about she had written, but at least, she hadn't mentioned anything towards love. Now, finishing the text, she folded the paper and got it a simple envelope. She'd give it to him that very night. It seemed dangerous, but she was scared of holding on to that frightful feeling of being alone in the shade of something that someone on the same rank as her, a worker, a woman had done and successfully lived by would keep her from the joys in life.

She got up, envelope closed in hand, and a lack of courage in her chest. Hesitant, she opened the door of her pantry, going out to the corridor, the lonely walk between her objective that night. She would do it – she could do it. No matter the response, she'd know if she could live the danger or stay in the sidelines like she had always done, and still smile to the dawn of new days to come.

Approaching Charles' pantry, and knowing he would still be inside, she knocked. Charles opened the door and leaved her enough space to walk in smoothly, without any stare, as he returned to his work.

"It's late, Mrs. Hughes." He said, with a joyful tone of voice. "Is there anything I could do for you?"

Elsie stood there petrified, not sure if she should give him the letter or not, and words seemed to have been erased from the tip of her tongue.

Charles looked at her with his eyebrow raised. "Mrs. Hughes?"

"I… I want you to read this." She took a step further and handled him the envelope. "But when you're alone. I… Just read it, Mr. Carson, if it wouldn't take much of your wanted time."

"Most certainly not," he replied, taking the envelope from her trembling hands. "and I will most certainly read it. I just hope it isn't anything bad, because I've had enough surprises for a week."

"Haven't we all?" She managed to give out a grin, and relieved sigh. "Tomorrow, if you want to, do tell me… what you understood."

Charles straightened his back and smiled. "So it is something bad. I will, Mrs. Hughes, do not worry – now it's better for you to take your earned rest. I'll see you tomorrow, good night."

"Good night." Elsie smiled.

She got out of his pantry as smoothly as she got in, the relief and the thrill of the action boiling her blood. Nothing he'd say about it would hurt her, because chances would be that he wouldn't understand what she wanted to say. But as she wrote it, she would realize that fear would only give her the wings she needed to fly – she loved him. And she felt a lot better after realizing that nothing could hurt her more than having failed to the hesitant wanting of burning the letter and going to sleep that night.

Charles sat and opened the letter, hopefully thinking that it would be nothing as bad as he thought.

And he started to read.

_Mr. Carson,_

_How many springs have we lived since we met? I can hardly count. It feels like a lifetime now, doesn't it?_

_First of all, I know I have failed you in not explaining what I have been through this past few months, the fear of being close to a painful death, and that same possibility; but I can't fathom to bother you with such trivialities, which aren't any trivial at any sense, but I just couldn't bring myself to it. But since Mrs. Patmore would have a sharper tongue that I'd ever think of having, I think it was better this way. But you did support me, even if it only was for a few days, and I couldn't thank you more for that._

_There is a reason why I'm not telling this to you in person. The first is that I can't explain what I feel very well with words – because sometimes words out of mouths do not describe feelings felt at heart and my heart has been a subject of many, many questions and challenges lately. I've been brought to tears more often than I've ever been in the past years – if that made me any weaker, I don't know, time can only tell. I hope not, anyway._

_I feel this sudden urge to tell you something, or to show you something I'd never do in my early years, out of respect for you and both our jobs, and the people we work to. I won't say what it is now… Because in our days it could lead us both to a road of despair, but since nothing in this house seems correct anymore (Oh, the chauffer married one of the golden daughters… The world is changing), I've thought the best approach would be written letters. I might regret this tomorrow, or in a few weeks, years even. Do keep reading._

_We've grown up together – we've known each other as we've grown to know every corner of this house. And I've been finding that lately – as I can easily tell from your tone of your voice when you're sad or upset or happy towards anything at all. Perhaps it is just me. Perhaps it's all in my head._

_The thing is, I can't understand what I feel anymore. We're friends, that I understand. Now if I ever wanted to be more than friends, I can't tell you without perhaps lying to myself. Or tell you at all. _

_I don't think it's my place to say such things, or to say anything in this matter at all, as I believe we can last some more years together without this being a bother. But I'm tired, Mr. Carson. Very. Tired of the happiness around me and not in me, I don't think you can understand._

_I… have very strong feelings for you. Now what those feelings are, I am not sure – I want to find it out by myself. The outcome can be drastic, and it can hit you hard on your insides, or both our lifes, but I can't simply just shrug this curiosity out of me. Which is not curiosity, it is a need of knowing which way to walk now._

_If you've made this far, I can only respect you more._

_I'll wait a response._

_With care,_

_Elsie Hughes._

Charles stood mesmerized with the letter in his hand. Most of those words he had been waiting to hear for years. But he was in the same situation – but he knew what he felt.

He loved Elsie Hughes, and if she was brave enough to put her integrity on the line, it wouldn't be gentlemanly to leave a lady to do so alone. He took a piece of paper and started to write as well.


	2. II - Charles' Apotheosis

**Oh heavens, thanks for the good feedback so far – I loved this idea and so far I've received great words, from either here and tumblr. You guys are the best! I might even make a fanmix with the songs that inspired me to write this. And here I leave with you all the second part of this story!**

-/-

The whole day was like a war for Elsie – the lack of sleep didn't help, and the thought of Charles being avoiding her the whole day wasn't helping her to cope with the ever-increasing thought of having made a fool of herself the other night.

And again, she couldn't help to contemplate the relationship Anna and Bates shared. The touches, the smiles, the sweet stares, the sweet words – the more she looked, the more she longed for a love like that. Perhaps she'd never get the chance to love like that in her life, and that made her somehow weak emotionally in that moment she sat with them in the almost empty dinner table downstairs. Only herself, Anna and Bates were present, and they were discussing matters of work and some small gossip as they took their afternoon tea, but Elsie kept distracting herself, losing herself in thoughts.

"Is everything alright, Mrs. Hughes?" Anna asked, a worried smile flashed in her face. It was like Elsie just shut out of the world as Anna and Bates kept talking, but the moment Anna asked Elsie, she snapped out of her illusions.

"Yes, quite, yes." She flashed a small grin, looking at her now empty cup of tea. She raised from the chair and smoothed her dress, sighing. "Well, we better be off now, work calls, and let's hope Mr. Carson doesn't see us linger here."

Anna and Bates raised as well. "Yes, I agree, Mrs. Hughes. But it is good to procrastinate a little." Bates said, placing a hand on Anna's shoulder. "We'll see you in a few hours."

Elsie nodded with another small smile, and got out of the room they were, leaving the couple behind.

"What do you think it is going on with her?" Anna asked innocently, turning to her husband.

Bates shrugged. "It could be a million things, but one cannot make assumptions about is going on on Mrs. Hughes' head. I'm sure she's like everyone else, she has her demons and ghosts and perhaps it's nothing to be worried about."

Anna's traces of a smile vanished, nodding. "I hope you're right. We don't need more tension here. Not now, anyway."

Still fighting the urges to dig a hole and bury herself alive, Elsie would mindlessly wander in the corridors upstairs, absentmindedly chasing the maids and nodding at them without paying any attention to their work. She couldn't just not bring herself to think that the reasons why Charles was avoiding her were what she wrote in her letter – had she really made a fool out of herself? She didn't even have the strength to face him and explain why she wrote that. She felt ashamed, and worst of it, she felt like she was going to look like a mad woman in her mid-life crisis (if that was even real to her) to him. She cared too much about what he thought of her, it was as important as breathing to her, she had shared a lot of her life with him to ruin everything now. She got afraid again, afraid of this strange love she felt for him, afraid it would ruin their relationship and therefore, their work.

In the midst of her depressing, self-destructive thoughts and brainstorming, she ran into the last man she wanted to see in that moment – no other than the butler, the tall man she fell into a deep, frightening love with.

"Mr. Carson." She greeted, afraid of his words. She hesitantly took a step backwards.  
"Mrs. Hughes." He greeted back, holding a smile that he couldn't show to her.

Sighing, Elsie approached him so she could talk more quietly. She had to ask him.  
"Have you…"  
Charles interrupted her. "Yes."  
Elsie's heart was rushing. "And what…"  
"Later." He did it again, pressing a finger against Elsie's lips, and with that, he turned her back and walked away, allowing himself to smile.

And Elsie stood there, completely petrified, as something seemed to have blown in herself.

The truth was that Charles didn't know what to tell Elsie the whole day. He wasn't exactly avoiding her, that would be too rude, he was… trying to get busy with something else. Everything would do – polishing more silver, check out on the maids himself, make small butlerism exams to Thomas and the footmen.

Anything that would keep his mind at ease. He had, in fact, written a letter as a response to her as well, and he was no good at lying. So he told the truth in a very general way – he did read the letter and he did reply, just not as soon as Elsie might have expected, and that little gesture was him allowing himself to give her a foreshadowing of what might been inside the letter.

Charles, since the very arrival of Elsie, forgot about many other women he knew. She was the only one she cared – from teaching her about facts of the house, to make sure she was getting along and catching up with her work. She saw her raise in her positions as he rose himself too, always hardworking, knowing that at night he'd get next to her and say 'this has been a good day'.

And despite knowing that Elsie wasn't as open to feelings as Charles was, he knew exactly what he felt. It was love. He had grown a deep, strong love for her, that was beyond the work ethics – he loved her work, he loved her manners, he loved everything and absolutely everything about her. To his eyes, her figure was better than any of the other young maids he stumbled upon his life worth of work; her voice could be such a throat cutting melody that sometimes he desired he could be yelled at from her; her eyes were like two shining stones in the middle of the moon. She was the stars and the whole sky to him, she was everything – and the moment he knew he could have lost her he almost had another heartattack. And the moment he found she was away from trouble he had almost another, this one out of joy.

As the day went on, he managed to sneak into her room and leave the letter there, right on top of her bed, so she'd see it quite surely. During the dinner, he said nothing other than what was needed to say to the others. Elsie was nervous, but she remained her outsides calm as she could only nod and eat and hopefully catch him when everyone was ready to call it a night.

She followed him into his pantry, closing the door loudly behind her.

"Mrs. Hughes, are you out of your mind?" Charles asked, completely astonished at her behavior. Deep inside it pleased her, it was another close moment he'd share with her.

"You've been avoiding me." Elsie had no use to sarcasm in that moment, so she cut the chase.

"I haven't."

"Then why didn't even dare to look for me the whole day?" Her voice was loud but controlled, hopefully no one would hear her.

Charles sighed heavily, falling on the chair behind his desk. "As a matter of fact, I do not quite follow you all day every day, do I now, Mrs. Hughes? If I remember well, we have a variety of different things to do on a day of work like today other than seeing each other. We've never done that in the past, nor we'll start to do it now."

"Then it was bad and I am fool." Elsie stood there, her face completely white, as the worst of her fears seemed to be true. "I will not bother you anymore, Mr. Carson."

"Elsie, wait-" He tried to get up so she wouldn't run away, but the moment he was back on his feet, she was long gone – she didn't even bother to close the door. She went up the stairs to her room, and as she walked, tears rolled down her eyes, knowing that she had made the worst mistake of her life.

Everything was foolish to her now – how she could have been so reckless, she didn't know, but what she had done could not be undone. She exposed herself to him like this for the first time and she ruined it, she could have lived with the ignorance, but the curiosity was stronger than her – but then, she cried, and she cried, and she sobbed, as she reached her room.

As she approached the bed, she noticed an envelope there. Even from afar and with her vision blurred with tears, she recognized the handwriting. It was a letter from him. Her heart sank deeper, now even more afraid of what could have been written there. She opened it, and slowly she prepared herself to read those written words.

_Mrs. Hughes,_

_I do not like to talk about time. We've known each other for long enough, so I don't think that it is relevant – didn't we grow together in this house as young adults to what we are now? Time doesn't mean anything as of now, or the past even, as the present and future are the things we can look forward to._

_But I'm a very hypocrite man towards these kinds of affairs, and you should know that._

_I've read every word you've written, and it echoed in my heart some remembrances from the past we shared. I've seen you turn into the woman you are, and how futile this might sound, I wouldn't change a thing. Not even how you get your hair, or the color of your eyes. I've grown to accept and respect you and your work in ways I can't describe. You're one amazing woman._

_But the thing is, Mrs. Hughes, I am a man, in the end of the day – not just a butler. I might not have been so lucky towards the opposite sex as I perhaps wanted in my younger years, and I was satisfied with knowing that at least with you I didn't have to hide away everything. I've had my troubled past, yes, but I've found a way to settle. Yes, I've settle down, since the day I walked in this house – and then you came, and everything was quite, quite different._

_As a man, I need a woman by my side. Not only for work, not only for love, but for the needs of having a friend, that even biologically opposite, could complete the flaws I have. And to my eyes and heart, no one has ever done it like you do, Mrs. Hughes._

_I understand that your mind is troubled. I've had to read your "I have strong feelings for you" phrase for some minutes straight to actually believe what I was readying – the truth is that I do know what those feelings are in my case._

_Mrs. Hughes, I do not want to ruin anything in our friendship, in our work, but I think it is about time I told you what I feel. I've fallen in love with you for years, decades even. Yes, love. So simple yet so complex, the power that could cause wars and murders, the power that could build a better world. But my world is fine as it is – I have had the pleasure to be beside you through good and bad, even though your nature didn't want me to know most things that happened. I do not fret about you not telling me your… health problem that isn't as problematic as I thought, I completely understand why you didn't tell me._

_The reason I never… exposed my feelings to you was never our work. It was the fear of losing you, scaring you away, making you feel like you didn't belong here, and part of me thought you'd never love me back._

_But you didn't explain it in the letter… and in fact, I'd rather hear it from your own mouth._

_But one thing is sincere, and this you will know and hear from my own mouth._

_Elsie Hughes, I love you._

_With care,_

_Charles Carson_

_PS: I mean these words, as I'm sure you've meant yours. I'll see you tomorrow, and please, do come with me to the Downton Arms tomorrow so we can talk properly. I've arranged some dull hours in the schedule for us. _

Elsie's tears intensified. She sobbed against her pillow, now regretting having stormed out of his pantry. He loved her. She… She didn't know what to expect anymore.

In his side, Charles smiled widely. He didn't know why, but he was happy – perhaps all of this could turn out well to them.

He loved her.


	3. Finale - Smothered Angels

**This has been so far one of the best fanfictions I've ever written – thanks for the awesome feedback, favourites, and kind words! Here I present you the last chapter of this story, called "Smothered Angels". It might sound sad, but it isn't that bad, I guess? I tried! Stay tuned for new fanfictions. So say we all!**

-/-

What a busy day it was for both Charles and Elsie. After the day that passed, Charles and Elsie weren't avoiding each other, but fate was setting them apart. This saddened Charles a little, but it gave him time to make sure he had everything in order for that afternoon.

Hopefully Elsie had read the letter, and hopefully she'd join him later that day – she spent the whole day humming love songs as he polished recklessly some silver (he couldn't set his mind in that), and even enjoyed a little talk with Mrs. Patmore before he seeked for Robert Crawley, his lordship.

He had no idea if Robert suspected – it didn't even struck him that there could be a possibility of a small thought of Charles and Elsie being together. It wasn't exactly true, but it wasn't exactly false either. Half-true, some might say. Charles entered the library, finding Robert doing some paperwork he had no idea what it was for.

"Your lordship, may I have a word?" He asked politely, standing by the door.

Robert rose his head from his work and waved at Charles. "Yes, Carson. What is it?"

Charles swallowed some air before talking. "I'm sure you remember me asking for some time off this afternoon, I was wondering if as of this moment there is no opposition to my request."

Robert turned to him and flashed a small smile. "There is not, my good Carson. Now, I don't understand why you asked the same for Mrs. Hughes. Is there anything wrong?"

There it was – that question. There wasn't anything wrong, but the moment that was about to happen could change his life forever, Charles' life. And Elsie's as well, but he was already planning a… not so honest answer for that.

"There is none, my lord, I only thought that after… Mrs. Hughes health condition, she could use some distraction, to wipe away any ghosts still lingering from the fear of a worse fate. I thought some time for herself as well would only do her good for the best of her work in the nearest future possible."

Oh Charles, you're such a good liar. Hopefully Robert would fall for it – no, he would most certainly fall for it. Charles was playing with the reputation of trustworthy man to the family. Hasn't he been the butler for decades?

"I see." Robert stood up. "Well, you must excuse my curiosity. I shall expect you tomorrow, then?"

Charles nodded. "Yes, my lord. Like always, I must add."

Elsie didn't know what to do with the information on the letter she had read. Did she read it well? She couldn't believe Charles Carson, the butler of Downton Abbey, the one and only, the man who'd have the honour of having the first waltz with no other that the Dowager Countess on the Servant's Ball, actually loved her. As in love, true love, not something small and irrelevant. Love.

But she was sure she didn't fear loving him anymore. If he could put himself on the line so easily, without being too conscious of what she could think, Elsie thought that… she was only being a fool. She should have said that she loved him already, for years, even. And that haunted her for a long time during that day. She found herself drowning in work, trying to keep a straight face and good temperament while working. She'd have two, maybe three hours to loosen herself, so she'd have to hold on the urges to find him and telling him her feelings.

The hours passed, and she heard from a maid that her ladyship, Cora Crawley had requested her presence. Rolling her eyes – not trying to be disrespectful, but her time to leave was close and she didn't want to make Charles wait.

Without wasting too much time, she went to the gardens. It was a grey day, but there were no signs of possible rain.

"My lady." Elsie nodded. "You've asked for me?"

Cora smiled at Elsie. "Yes, I have, Mrs. Hughes. Hopefully I'm not being impertinent."

"Not at all, your ladyship. Is there anything I can do?" Elsie lied, but well, she had to. She had never been disrespectful to her employers, and it wouldn't be today that day.

"I was wondering about if you had any plans for the Easter ball as of now, as we're merely one, maybe one and a half months from the date. Not trying to rush things, but I might have some ideas I'd like to tell you."

Elsie shivered in silence. It would take time. Cora would talk, and explain, and point, and move around telling her brilliant ideas about a ball that wasn't even that important. All Elsie wanted was to tell her off, her heart was in her mouth, as she could see the shades of the shadows growing darker against the walls and the floor.

Charles, obviously, was at the Downton Arms too soon. He waited there, ordered a cup of scotch to warm up the throat and kept himself to his thoughts. He glanced the watch, once, twice, and again, and again; and when the hour was due, no signs of Elsie Hughes. He waited a little more, and more, he waited an hour, ordered another scotch, changed his chair, another hour, and then night was almost falling. Elsie had failed him.

No, she didn't. This was the sign he feared – that she wasn't for him, that she couldn't, that she didn't probably desired the same. He had put his heart on the line, only to fall from grace. He gasped for air as he walked out of the pub, leaving money worth enough for more than what he even had.

But he loved her – and he took her letter from his jacket again. He could have sworn that he understood from her writing that she felt the same. He was wrong, and he had made a fool out of himself. He didn't understand why, though. Elsie asked him why he was avoiding her, and he was rather mean with her, but he only wanted her to go to her room sooner so she could read the letter.

Perhaps she didn't even bother. Perhaps she burned it down and thrown the ashes away. What had he done? He'd have no other way out of this. He wouldn't leave the house, but he'd have to avoid all contact with her. He'd have to only talk to her about professional matters. No more night caps, no more gossip through the evening in his pantry. No more new wine tasting, no more trips down to memory lane together. Everything he enjoyed about his personal life would have to end. He'd be empty, a machine, nothing more than a machine. Everything because… of love.

He made his way back home, hiding himself from the eyes that could notice he was upset. Holding his rage towards himself, he looked to the ground as he returned to the Abbey.

Elsie lost herself in the hours – lies. She didn't. She was asked here, and there, and she rushed to her room to get a coat only to notice she was two hours late. She was never late to anything – she never followed the social rule of having those precious ten minutes of being late. She liked to be on time, because her time was limited. She rushed his way out of the house, fastening her step, hasting her legs, making sure she wouldn't trip in the process. The last thing she needed was looking filthy.

She didn't have the time to make herself look a little better – she had her working dress under the coat, and a simple hat she took randomly from the few ones she had, which she was holding in her head with her hand to make sure it wouldn't fall.

As she made her way, she found the silhouette of a man who what a gloomy aura around him. She stopped for a moment – he was too familiar. As soon as he was a little closer, she was sure about who he was. Her heart almost jumped out of her chest.

It was him. And he didn't look happy, and guilt grew on the back of her lungs. She was late, and the thought of being too late now struck her. She literally ran towards him, waving her hand.

"Mr. Carson! Mr. Carson!" She raised her voice, as he looked up. "I'm…"

She tripped on a rock, and fell on the ground, leaving a loud grunt in the hair. Charles, completely surprised, ran towards her, helping her getting up to her feet.

"Are you alright, Mrs. Hughes?" He asked, worry being the only feeling heard in his voice. "Are you hurt?"

"I am not, thank you…" She struggled with a minor pain in her left knee, perhaps a small bruise, but she could carry on with her life. "…I'm sorry."

"For what?" Charles wasn't even paying attention, as the only thing he could think about was how her eyes shined with the dusk growing around them. Like two stars, they seemed to him.

"…For being late. You asked for my presence." She said, getting herself up completely, sighing.

"…You read the letter."

"Of course."

"…Mrs. Hughes…" Charles started, and Elsie placed a hand on her chest, making him swallow hard.

"Mr. Carson… I… I have no idea how one's supposed to put this to words." She looked to the ground, as night fell on them. "I…"

"I love you, Mrs. Hug- I mean, I love you, Elsie." Charles lifted her chin with his hand, gently, so he could gaze into her bright, clear eyes.

Breathless, Elsie took his free hand, and squeezed. "…Charles…"

"…I thought you… didn't bother reading the letter… after how I talked to you last night…"

Elsie smiled. "Of course I would read it, I was waiting for an answer the whole day."

Charles, still holding her chin, looked deep into her eyes, as if they were asking for him to make a move. "And what is your answer?"

Elsie, on her tip toes, did what she had only dreamt in her younger years: with an arm around his neck, her eyes suddenly closed as she approached her lips to his, kissing him gently as she wrapped another arm around him. She thought she was being crazy, but it was almost dinner time, and there wasn't anyone in the streets.

"I love you." She whispered to him as their lips parted. "I love you, Charles Carson."

Charles had a tear flowing down his cheek. "…Elsie…"

He leaned his head again to kiss her, deepening the kiss gently, as he smoothly held the back of her head with the palm of his hand.

Their lips parted, Charles took her hand, kissing it, only to tell her that they should return to the house. Days ago returning to that house would mean returning to a routine. Now it would mean returning to a completely new world – although there were no words on the way back, love talked in their place, and silence was enough for them to know that they loved eachother. Life would be harder now, but if they managed this far, there was no risk worth not taking.

Charles loved Elsie. Elsie lost her fear and returned the love she had for him. And both hoped that it would last for the rest of their lives.

_I should go now quietly__  
For my bones have found a place  
To lie down and sleep__  
Where all my layers can become reeds__  
All my limbs can become trees__  
All my children can become me__  
What a mess I leave___


End file.
